


Underfoot

by musegnome



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musegnome/pseuds/musegnome
Summary: Aziraphale's right about how much Crowley's going to like his soft new dressing gown.Written for Round 3 of the Good Omens Events Server's Name That Author Challenge!Prompt: "This better not awaken anything in me."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 87
Collections: Name That Author Round 3: After Dark





	Underfoot

It had been a warm, wet, lazy sort of morning, with sleepy kisses and gentle laughter and a long, lusciously slow fuck in the shower.

“New dressing gown, that?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale lifted it down from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. 

The angel hummed a confirmation. “Turkish cotton,” he said happily as he pulled it on. “Feel how soft it is!”

Obediently, Crowley ran his hand over Aziraphale’s arm. “Soft,” he agreed slyly, his hands wandering inside the robe to the water-warmed angel beneath. “Like your satin one better though.”

Aziraphale huffed in mock irritation. “Give it a chance, Crowley. I think you’ll like this one well enough.”

Crowley adoringly watched the love of his eternal life, in fleece lounge pants and tartan slippers and a fluffy white dressing gown, pad away to their kitchen for his tea and buttered toast. 

He had to admit the cotton suited him.

Crowley gradually awoke from a doze. Eyes closed, he lay taking everything in: the smooth leather against his back; the quiet sound of turning pages; the bend of his knees for the sofa to accommodate his lanky form; the gentle pressure against the arches of his bare feet where they were curled over the top of Aziraphale’s thigh.

Ah. The arches of his feet.

Crowley’s soles were buried in the thick cotton of Aziraphale’s dressing gown. Every time the angel moved the slightest bit, to shift his weight or reach for his tea, the plush fabric rubbed against his arches and it felt… glorious.

He never thought he’d have a thing about his feet, legless snaky demon and all, but… well, there was a first time for everything.

Still drowsy, Crowley spread his toes, wiggling them luxuriously through the thick pile of the cloth. The gentle friction was delicious. He opened his eyes to find Aziraphale watching him, a smile on his pink lips. Slowly, eyes never leaving Crowley’s, he began flexing his leg to lightly press the robe up into Crowley’s feet. 

The lush cushion of the angel’s thigh rolling the soft cotton up into his arches suddenly had Crowley hard in his pants.

There was no hiding his erection in the thin jersey pyjama bottoms he wore, so he let his knees fall open. Aziraphale’s smile deepened. He slid a warm hand between Crowley’s spread legs and pulled his waistband down just far enough to palm him through his black silk briefs; he set a steady rhythm, flexing his leg as he stroked Crowley’s cock. The soft chafe against Crowley’s feet and the smooth slide against his prick flooded his senses and he thrust into Aziraphale’s silk-lined hand, coming with a cry. 

When Crowley’s hips had stilled and he lay back panting, the angel slipped primly out of the dressing gown and pulled himself up his lover’s chest, heedless of the wet black silk between them. He kissed Crowley long and deep.

“See?” he said smugly. “I told you you’d like it well enough.”


End file.
